Till Death Do Us Part
by the happy penguins
Summary: Rose, President Snow's daugher, wants nothing to do with the Games. But fate intervenes, and she finds herself thrown into the excitement. She vowed to keep her distance from the Tributes, but how can she stay away when Cato keeps running after her?
1. Chapter 1 A Beginning

**Disclamer: Characters (except Rose and a few others) and some plot elements belong to the Hunger Games franchise and Suzanne Collins.**

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><p>As daughter of the pompous President of Panem, I had many 'duties' and 'official responsibilities'. I performed my duties diligently. I met with Head Peacekeepers and various government officials on a regular basis. I traveled to Districts and promoted government programs and initiatives like the <em>'Clean Up Panem Act'<em> and the_ 'District Enhancement Program'_. I basically represented my father in trivial matters and events of the state when he could not attend. I have been working for 3 years, since I turned 13. You could say that I matured rather quickly.

While I was the _perfect_ daughter in most aspects, there was one duty I could not perform. When it was time for the Hunger Games, I had to act as Tribute Liaison. That meant hosting dinner parties for the Tributes and their entourage, visiting the Districts at the time of the Reaping and smiling vacantly for the many, many cameras. I_ loathed_ it. I did not want to come face-to-face with people who would soon become savages. It sickened me: watching them slaughter each other for glory. But what glory is there in bloodshed? I preferred to keep my distance and avoid all personal contact with the Tributes.

Instead, my duties would be taken over by one of daddy dearest's many friends. By friends I mean, buxom blondes who keep him company at night. Then I usually feigned illness and avoided being in the public eye until the excitement from the Games had boiled over. It was the only way I could keep somewhat sane.

Today, the Reapings from all over the country were being televised. As always, I was sitting by the window, head buried in an ancient novel about wizards and half-giants and house-elves. It was a really strange book. The story was amazing and funny, but I questioned its validity. Obviously, people couldn't fly on broomsticks and change their appearances by drinking potions! Sometimes, I felt that the people of the olden times were slightly mental.

"Come, come Rose," my caretaker, Bauble, said in a voice sounding like wind-chimes. "The Reaping in District 2 is about to start."

"I don't want to watch it." I muttered and continued to read.

Bauble frowned looking as if I had mortally wounded her and I immediately felt bad. It wasn't her fault she was so irritating. It was just the way she was brought up. At first I couldn't stand her aqua nails, her bubblegum-pink afro, the intricate arrangement of knots tattooed over her brown arms and her lilting accent. But after a while, Bauble grew on me like mould. Cursing myself for giving into her childish behaviour, I hauled myself over to the couch and sat beside Bauble who threw her arms around me and screeched like a howler monkey. Oh dear.  
>"This is going to be so much fun!" she sang and turned up the volume of the television. The screen showed a gathering of young people standing in a large courtyard. All of them had identical expressions of grim determination. Frankly, it was a bit unsettling.<p>

After the obligatory national anthem, the real 'fun' began. A woman dressed in the absolute height of Capitol couture staggered up onto a podium in ten-inch heels. She had neon-blue hair and wore a dress made entirely of shimmery sequins. Her name was Cyan. She was one of daddy's lackeys who often invited me on her many day spa trips in an effort to befriend me. A morbid little voice in my head wished that she would fall.

"Good day District 2!" She giggled like a child. Who was she kidding? Everyone knew she was well past the age of thirty-six, yet she insisted on acting like a toddler. "I say enough suspense! Let us get on with the show!" Every word Cyan said seemed to be punctuated with exclamation points. I mentally smacked myself for giving in to Bauble's pity-face and watching this silly program with her.

Cyan reached into a glass bowl and pulled out a small square card. "The Tribute girl from District 2 is…Clove!" A petite girl climbed onto the podium grinning from ear to ear. Her family cheered wildly and there was a lot of enthusiastic clapping among the crowds. "Now!" Cyan said as the applause died down. "It's time for the maaaaale Tribute!" She reached into the bowl and pulled out a card, but before she could read it, a young man lunged forward desperately. The Peacekeepers surrounded him immediately. Wow, desperate much?

"I volunteer as tribute!" he declared. Cyan smiled and burst into a chorus of giggles. "That's wonderful! Come on up!" The boy climbed onto the stage and waved at the crowd. He was ridiculously gorgeous and he seemed to exude charm and confidence. He had blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular. Bauble sighed and cocked her head to the side. "He's so handsome. I hope he wins."

"What's your name sweetness?" Cyan said, her voice like saccharine, and handed him a microphone. Her fingers lingered around his for far too long. It was so indecent and unexpected that I couldn't help snorting in laughter.  
>"My name is Cato." He grinned. I was sure that thousands of girls worldwide were breathing sighs of longing. He would be definitely popular among the female crowd.<p>

"That's wonderful!" Cyan smiled. "Thank you, citizens of District 2!" There was a round of applause for the Tributes followed once again by the anthem. Then the screen faded to black.

"Well that was fun," I said and jumped to my feet. "But enough bonding Bauble." I awkwardly patted her on the shoulder and walked away before she could get all emotional and tear up. Bauble and I were at opposite ends of the spectrum and our _'bonding'_ time usually left me uncomfortable and vaguely disturbed.

"Aren't you going to get fitted for gowns?" Bauble asked bewildered. In her mind, anyone who put off gown fittings was clearly insane and needed to be institutionalized.  
>"I don't need any. I'm not going." I said and continued to read.<br>"Can't you come just this once?" Bauble pouted.  
>"I can't," I said. "I'm sick." I faked a cough, but unfortunately a bit of spittle caught in my throat causing me to double over coughing violently for a good two minutes. Bauble must have bought it because she left me alone after that.<p>

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door of my flat. "I'll get it!" Bauble sang and rushed to answer the door, only stopping momentarily at the mirror to straighten her hair.

Unfortunately, it was Keenan. One of my father's many Secretaries. Of all the people who kiss my father's arse, Keenan kisses and licks the presidential arse clean every morning. I despise Keenan. He always looked down on me and commented harshly on my lack of support for the Games. One time, he had given me a contemptuous glance and said: "Lay off the sweets darling." It had taken two Peacekeepers to pull me off him. I had given him a black eye and a bruised lip. He later went around telling everyone it was a fashionable affectation. Soon, people started to copy the slimy bastard. Once, I had even found Bauble, in a moment of weakness, desperately covering her right eye lid in black eye-shadow in an effort to stay abreast of trends.

"President Snow desires your presence in his office." Keenan said snottily. "Come now." I sighed and followed him. Daddy rarely saw me. We weren't exactly the happiest family. Ever since mom died of lead poisoning from the lead-based lip stains she always used, dad and I have had a strained relationship. Mostly, we kept out of each other way. However, every year on my birthday, he would come to my flat and give me a present that one of his _'friends'_ had chosen. He didn't know what to give a girl, so every year I ended up with gowns, jewelry and makeup that I barely used.

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><p>As I walked into daddy's office, the scent of roses overpowered me. Father loved roses. He said he had named me Roseline after them. His spacious office was immaculate and well-decorated. The Panem seal was carved into the wood of his massive desk. He sat with his finger interlocked and a faint smile on his puffy lips.<p>

"Hello father!" I smiled and walked over to give him a hug. I did not agree with my father's policies and behavior, but I loved and respected him greatly. He had done his best in raising me. He had educated me far, far away from Panem so that I would not end up like the other citizens of Panem.

As I hugged him, I could smell the faint scent of dried blood that always lingered around his face. You see, my father was always sick. And he has been for as long as I can remember.

"Hello Rose," he half-smiled and hugged back. He then gestured towards the chair in front of him. I sat down and looked at him expectantly.

He took a deep breath and shuffled through the papers on his desk. I could see that he was nervous. I wished he would just spit it out before I started to get tense too.

"Rose, the reason that I called you here today is I would like you to do something for me." He said. I nodded hesitantly.

"Rose, every year at the time of the Games you disappear." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "The people are stupid but they're not that stupid. They will soon realize that you do not support the Games. And how will that sit with the people of Panem? The president's own daughter against his regime? I'm asking you, as your father, to act as Tribute Liaison this year."

"I don't want to." I said stonily. He knew I despised the Games. My father pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and continued in a monotone, "Please Rose. I'm only asking you to do this just this once. Then you don't have to do it ever again. Just let the people see that you like and agree with the Games."

My father rarely begged. The fact that he had said 'please' made his plea even more serious. He really wanted me to do this. While every fiber of my being screamed "NO!" and a thousand voices erupted in my head chastising and discouraging me, I nodded. "I'll do it."

"That's my girl!" My father immediately brightened. "Thank you, sweetheart. You won't regret it."

I really, really hope I don't regret this.

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><p><strong>AN: Hello everyone! This is my first Hunger Games fanfic and I'm not sure how to proceed.**  
><strong>The entire fic takes place during the 74th Hunger Games, but the plot lines are slightly blurred.<strong>  
><strong>Reviews really help me out. I really want to know what to do with the characters.<strong>

**1) Should I continue in this first person POV?**

**2) What about Rose, what do you think about her character?**

**3) Is the style of writing good? Or is it bad?**

**Thank you very much for reviewing xx**


	2. Chapter 2 Bad Boy

**A/N: I own nothing except for a few tweaks here and there and my characters.**

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><p>In preparation for my hostessing duties, my stylist, Kendra, had dressed me in a slinky, low-cut black dress that literally clung to my body and left nothing to the imagination. I had protested that the dress was too short and too indecent but my pleas fell on deaf ears. Kendra had spent six months designing the dress and she would not rest until I wore it. She glared and fumed until sufficiently intimidated, I shut my mouth. I was annoyed at myself for being scared of Kendra. After all, she was only four feet, nine inches and weighed 95 pounds. In a fight, I would have easily won. But somehow, the massive tattooed dragon on her face managed to freak me into submission.<p>

Today I had to meet with Districts 1 through 6. It wasn't something I was looking forward to. The Careers were a nasty, arrogant bunch. They treated everyone with disrespect and acted like they owned the place.

"You have breakfast with District 1 and then lunch with District 2," Bauble rambled on while making notes in her tablet computer. Today, Bauble was dressed in a tight jumpsuit of lime-green lace. She wore bright blue leather boots and her hair was straightened into long, candy-floss colored sheets. Next to her, I looked plain. And I liked it that way. Kendra had tried to style my makeup and hair to resemble felines because cats were apparently the latest fashion accessory, but I had fought tooth and nail until she agreed to keep it natural. I would not look like a _cat_ when meeting with these people.

"Schedule afternoon tea with District 4 and District 5," I said, fixing my hair in a floating mirror that followed me around. "And a picnic with District 6." Bauble nodded and continued tapping away on her device. As a thank-you, my father had sent over a beautiful collar that was encrusted with large diamonds. Bauble had insisted that I wear the heavy noose. Frankly, I thought it was too much. It made me look snobby and weighed at least 4 pounds.

"District 1 is ready for you." Bauble said speaking into an earpiece. She led me to an enormous building, which housed all the Tributes.

Just yesterday, the tributes had arrived and settled into their living quarters. In four days, they would begin training. During the following four days of free time the Tributes had, I would play the role of the perfect hostess. It wasn't a very rewarding task. My guests were either cocky sons of bitches or meek cowards. _You're doing this for dad_, I reminded myself as we boarded the elevator.

As I made my way up to the first floor, I had a gut feeling that it would be bad. Very bad indeed.

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><p>"Well that was fan-fucking-tastic." I hissed torn between wanting to burst into tears and screaming till my face hurt. Marvel and Glimmer were just what I thought they would be. Pretentious pricks. Marvel had spent all of breakfast making sleazy passes at me while Glimmer watched seething in anger. The fact that I was President Snow's daughter did nothing to deter Marvel's unwanted advances. Stupid little prick. Later, when I had stepped out onto the balcony for a quick smoke, he had followed me and attempted to kiss me. I did what any girl would do. I swung my fist with all my might at his jaw. Let's just say that Marvel better show his left profile to the cameras tomorrow.<p>

Glimmer was no better. She refused to speak to me throughout the meal and did not so much as glance in my direction. At one point, I seriously thought about calling in the Peacekeepers to haul her away. After the entire embarrassing fiasco, I had stormed out of the flat. Bauble ran to keep up with my hasty strides. She watched me with an expression of quiet amusement. I glared at her. "What are you looking at?" I demanded in a very unladylike manner. Bauble shifted her glance while hiding a slight smile. I opened my bag and pulled out the floating mirror. Oh fuck me. Kendra's hard work was destroyed when Marvel had run his hands through my hair. The classy knotted bun she had done was falling apart.

I tinkered with it, in an effort to fix it, but unfortunately, I lacked Kendra's magic touch and succeeded in making it look a whole lot worse. I finally gave up and pulled out the clips securing it and let it fall to my waist. Fuck you Marvel. Fuck you very much.

I was not looking forward to what was next. My next meeting involved the Careers of District 2, including that boy who was so desperate to compete that he had volunteered even before Cyan had read the name on the card. Who does that? I had a deep suspicion that he was either unstable or suicidal.

The second floor housed District 2. Bauble knocked on the door as I made last minute adjustments to my hair and makeup. An Avox girl opened the door and bowed when she saw me. Cyan, the escort, was sitting on the couch surfing through the television channels. Today, she had toned down her outfit. By toned down, I mean that she wasn't coated from head-to-toe in neon paint but instead wore a red smock over leopard print tights.

"Rose!" She yelped when she saw me and ran towards me for a hug. She smelled like overripe peaches. It wasn't pleasant. "Hello Cyan, it's lovely to see you again." I managed to gasp. She was small but unnaturally strong.

"Come, come meet Cato and Clove!" She giggled and pulled me towards the dining room. But only one person was there. It was the girl. Sullenly, she sat at the dining table while looking at her plate.

"Hello Clove, I am Rose Snow." I smiled and held out my hand. She stared at me blankly and ignored the proferred hand. "I know who you are." she said in a voice that was much too grown up for a girl of her age. She continued to stare eerily into my eyes. Fantastic. In addition to the pricks in District 1, we also have a psychopath onboard. Limply, I let my hand fall to my side and sat down across her. Cyan and Bauble were in the process of sharing their life stories so I was left to sit there awkwardly twiddling my thumbs while the psychopath stared at me.

"So what do you think of the Capitol?" I started weakly in an effort to make conversation. She did not respond. Well, fine be that way.

After what seemed like an eternity, a voice came from the doorway, "Hello everyone." I nearly fainted in relief. The tension in the room had gotten much too thick. I was glad that someone had said something. I turned around and saw the boy Tribute, Cato, walk in. The District mentor followed him.

"Well this is lovely!" Cyan twittered, "Cato, this is Rose Snow!" Cato looked at me and smiled. I have no idea why, but that slow, sensual smile did things to me. My heart decided to jump all over the place and my stomach started to ache. "Nice to meet you Miss Snow," he said smirking. He swaggered to the dining table and sat down. He was cute but cocky as hell.

"Likewise," I smiled politely, praying that no one would notice the sudden battle between my internal organs.

Two Avoxes brought steaming dishes to the table and I immediately tucked in.

Despite having eaten a hearty breakfast about an hour ago, I had taken a special liquid that cleared my stomach and allowed me to eat over and over again. I didn't normally use it, but right then I had no choice. I had back-to-back lunches and dinners with Tributes and Gamemakers and it was only polite to eat instead of watching them eat.  
>As usual, the food was delicious. The lamb was tender and I couldn't help eating another serving. For dessert, an Avox girl brought out a large bowl of chocolate mousse. It didn't matter how much I ate anyway. I would have to take the special liquid again before tea with District 4.<p>

"So Cato, how do you like the Capitol?" I asked making polite dinner conversation. Cato stared at me for a few seconds before speaking, "It is beautiful." The way he looked at me gave me goosebumps and sent shivers down my spine. Infatuation is never healthy so I schooled my face into an expression of indifference. But how could one ever be indifferent to him? He was so charming, quite unlike other Tributes. Cato was like a walking magnet for attention. He had such mesmerizing eyes. They were blue and they twinkled unnaturally. Maybe his prep team had done something to his eyes? I could have spent hours just looking into his eyes.

Throughout lunch, I was aware that he was looking at me but I kept my eyes focused on my food and did not adress him directly. I was already getting close enough

After everyone had eaten the five-course meal, an Avox brought tea and mints. Conversation revolved around trivial matters and I lost interest very quickly. Once again, I wandered out onto the balcony on pretext of a smoke. I just needed some fresh air and a chance to clear my head.

It was bright and sunny, but cold. There was a definite nip in the air and I cursed myself for forgetting my coat. The Capitol was buzzing with excitement. This close to the Games, everyone was placing bets and discussing each Tribute's chances.

"You shouldn't be here. You'll catch a cold." came a voice from behind. I whipped around in shock, but relaxed when I saw who it was. Cato casually walked up to me and stood next to me surveying the Capitol.

"Thanks, but I think I can take care of myself." I was beginning to get annoyed by the patronizing way he spoke to me. Cato smirked at my biting tone. For a few minutes, we both stood in silence.

"Cato, can I ask you a question?"

He nodded but did not take his eyes off the city.

"Why did you volunteer even before Cyan read out the card?"

Cato sighed and then stiffened. "Miss Snow," he started but I cut him off. "Call me Rose."

"Rose," he smirked and continued, "In District 2, the Games are very important. In my own family, there are eight winners. My mother asked me to volunteer." I nodded, understanding completely. Sometimes, people expect a lot out of you because of what your parents did. I mean look at me. My father is the most powerful man in the entire country. People have been putting me on a pedestal since the day my mother pushed me out.

I took out a cigarette from my bag and began to smoke. It was an unhealthy, nasty habit that I couldn't get rid of. I smoked when I was nervous, sad, angry, happy or hungry. Basically every waking moment of my life.

Cato watched me light up the cigarette in fascination. "What is that?" I raised an eyebrow. Was he being serious? He probably was because the Districts weren't given the same luxuries as the citizens of the Capitol. He had probably never seen a cigarette in his entire life.

"This is a cigarette and this is a lighter." I explained. "You light it and then suck in the air through the cigarette."  
>"Why would anyone want to do that?" He asked looking thoroughly confused.<br>"It feels good." I said exasperated. "Here, try it."

Cato gingerly took the cigarette from me and took a puff. Immediately, he started coughing and convulsing. As hard as I tried, I couldn't help hold back the chuckles. Finally catching his breath, Cato glared at the cigarette as if it was an object of the Devil and crushed it beneath his foot. Then he glared at me.

I froze mid-laugh at the sight of the dangerous expression on his face. He came closer than what was necessary or what I was comfortable with. I couldn't take my mind of the fact that our bodies were literally millimeters apart. He smelled very masculine. You could have gotten intoxicated on the heady scent. He continued to glare at me fiercely and I gulped in fear when I realized the trouble I was in. He was very strong and could have killed me with his bare hands.

"It didn't feel good," he muttered darkly. His expression was stony. I tried backing away but I was already pressed up against the wall. He continued to stare at me for a very long time. Then suddenly, he blinked and then walked away without so much as a goodbye. I released the breath that I had been holding and lit up another cigarette to calm my racing heart. What the hell was that?

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><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! I love reading reviews and getting feedback so go ahead and make me happy!**

**Thank youu! ~ the happy penguins.**


	3. Chapter 3 To Know Her Is To Love Her

**A/N: I really like writing this story!~ It's very cathartic.**

**Someone commented on Snow's old age and how it would make more sense if Rose was his granddaughter. I thought about that, but I needed to show a good relationship between the two as it is instrumental later on in the story. Somehow, I feel a relationship between father and daughter would be stronger than one between grandfather and granddaughter. **

**Also, Snow is 76. Rose is 16. It would be biologically possible for him to have her, considering that Panem is at least 150 years in the future and they would probably have improved healthcare and all sorts of fertility medicines.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>After two exhausting days of meeting with Tributes and their entourages, all I wanted to do was to go to sleep. Not many people realize the immense amount of work that goes into making sure that the Games run smoothly. I was existing on three hours of sleep a night and gallons of coffee. Everyday, I had the<em> bitchiest<em> hangover. Just yesterday, I went through two entire packets of cigarettes. Kendra complained about my smoking and coffee drinking every single time she whitened my teeth. I have lost count of the number of times that I've had my teeth whitened in the last few days. Slowly but surely, I was going insane.

"Today, you have a meeting with the Gamemakers. As well as a party to organize for District 1, 2 and 4," said Bauble staring intently at her tablet computer. I imagine bludgeoning her to death with the stupid tablet, but restrained myself. She was my friend. Well sort of.

I was in the process of having my face powdered by Kendra. After much bickering and name-calling, Kendra and I had finally reached a middle ground on my outfit of the day. We decided on a midnight-blue full-sleeved jumpsuit. The jumpsuit had a narrow slit running down the middle from my neck to my bellybutton. It was made of see-through netting in certain areas like my knees, sides, and shoulders. In all honesty, it was like a nun's habit in comparison to the clothes I had worn previously. Kendra had paired the outfit with beige, neutral heels. I looked every bit the professional diplomat with just a dash of sexy.

I glanced at my reflection. The woman who looked back was completely different from the care-free, happy girl I used to be. Instead, I looked much older and refined, almost regal. Kendra had used a machine to suck the fat out of my cheeks, leaving me looking slightly pinched and stern. The fact that the Games had changed my physical appearance so much scared me. What damage would it wreak on my emotional state?

"Seneca Crane also wishes to organize a meeting with District 1 and 2," continued Bauble waving the infernal computer in my face. Whoever said that the Games were fair was lying or ignorant. Since District 1 and 2 were the Capitol's favorites, they were given preferential treatment in the form of advice from the Head Gamemaker beforehand and help in the arena. It unfairly tipped the balance in favor of the Careers, but made for a good show.

Speaking of Careers, there was a certain one who kept appearing in my head at odd moments. Our last encounter had left me flustered and confused. I have never felt flustered or confused. After extensive training in the art of public relations, I had learned to stay unruffled in conversations and always come out on top. Cato had barely said anything to me and I had been left reeling. He annoyed me. He piqued my interest. _What is wrong with me? _

I gulped down my coffee, ignoring Kendra's loud protests that my teeth would become stained. _Fuck that. I've got bigger things to worry about._

It didn't help that my flat was directly across the Tribute building and that I could clearly see him go about his day._ Focus Rose. You have work to do instead of ogling a dead man_.

"I'll meet with the Gamemakers at 11. Organize Seneca's meeting at the Ruby Tower at 2. For the party, I'm thinking Andromeda Hall. Formal and classy dress only. Invite all daddy's contacts. Except Mr. Julius. We do not like him after what he did last year," I said solemnly. Last year, Mr. Julius had had a little too much to drink and had upset quite a few guests by his punching Madame Guarnieri in her fake nose. If you ask me, she deserved it. She was always putting that abnormally pointy nose in everybody's business.

"Food? Drinks? Your dress?" Bauble asked frantically sending out messages to the guests and organizers.

"Steaks, salmon and prawn canapés, wine, and such." I said vaguely. My attention was focused on a certain blond boy who was jumping into the swimming pool right across me. The sunlight glinted off the planes of his bare chest. My mouth began to get very dry. I honestly couldn't understand my body's reaction towards him. He was just a boy! Albeit a pig-headed, gorgeous one.

"Hey!" Bauble said raising her voice. "The party?" She looked at me as if I was crazy. Which I probably was. I snapped out my reverie guiltily. "Oh right, the party." The party was a very big deal. Only the most important and the most influential of Capitol citizens were invited. The Careers got the chance to meet the crème of Capitol society and potential sponsors. The party had to take place tonight. I sighed and buried my face in my hands. _Why was I doing this? Oh right, for_ _dad._

"Get my dress from Polino Rodriguez." I said. Rodriguez was a high-class designer. He was one of the most requested designers in Panem. Bauble paused and looked shocked. "B-but that's impossible. Rodriguez is fully booked," she murmured. I sighed. Did I have to do _everything_ around here? I whipped out my cellphone and dialed Polino's personal number. He answered immediately.

"Ciao, ciao Polino!" I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  
>"Bella Rosa! I missed you!" The effeminate Hispanic said in a sing-song voice. "Why have you not called?" I could almost imagine him pouting.<br>"I've been busy. I'm sorry. But I need your help now. Tonight's the Career party and I need a dress."  
>"I was waiting for your call!" Polino burst. "I already have your dress!"<br>"Thank you so much!" I grinned. He was one of my favorite people in the entire Capitol. He always brightened my mood. "I will send Bauble to pick it up."

I hung up and looked over at Bauble. Her jaw was hanging open and her eyes were two sizes wider. "H-how did you do that?"  
>I smirked. "Being the president's daughter has its perks. He's actually a very good friend of mine."<p>

I headed off to my meeting with the Gamemakers, while Bauble followed, jaw still wide open. The Gamemakers were a boring bunch, more interested in stuffing their faces instead of discussing the Games. I tried as much as possible to steer the conversation towards the topic at hand, yet the Gamemakers insisted on talking about food. Finally, I gave up and joined in on the pointless discussion. These men and women fascinated and sickened me. Every year, 23 people died at their hands and yet here they were talking about which red wine best accompanied a rare steak.

X

After two hours of mindless conversation, I vomited out the contents of my stomach and made my way to Seneca's meeting. I hadn't seen Seneca in a while and I was looking forward to our meeting. He was a delight in conversation. I could spend hours talking to him about anything under the sun. Bauble left to get my dress from Rodriguez's Boutique so I made my way up the Ruby Tower alone. The Ruby Tower was used for all sorts of official meetings and discussions. It is one of the tallest buildings on the Capitol skyline. At the very top of the building, there was a massive ruby, hence the name Ruby Tower.

An Avox boy directed me towards my meeting room and I entered to find a pleasant surprise. Seneca Crane was already there. I had arrived so early that I expected the room to be empty. But I was genuinely glad Seneca was here.

"Seneca!" I beamed and threw my arms around him. He hugged back and kissed my forehead. "Oh my, little Rose, how you've grown!" he chuckled and set me down.  
>"Look at you now! Head Gamemaker! That's an important post." I smiled at one of my oldest friends. We sat down and proceeded to have one of the best chats that I have had in a long time, not involving the ones I've had with myself.<p>

"So, tell me. Do you have a favorite in the Games?" Seneca asked pouring me a cup of tea. An Avox girl had brought in a tea tray and some pastries. I blushed. "Not really, no," I tried to play it cool but the words came out strangled. _Nice going Rose. Very smooth._

Seneca smiled knowingly. "I bet its that boy from District 12. What's his name? Peeta?"  
>"Oh not Peeta," I said recalling the cute baker-boy. When I had had lunch with District 12, their mentor Haymitch Something had appeared thirty minutes late, reeking of alcohol. Their escort Effie was one of Bauble's friends and welcomed me with too much enthusiasm. Peeta, though, was a good conversationalist. He had succeeded in making me laugh not once, but thrice. And he spoke very passionately about the things in his life. The girl Tribute, on the other hand, stayed silent throughout the meal. I think her name was Catnip or something like that.<p>

"Then who is it?" asked Seneca suddenly curious. I took a deep breath and murmured, "Cato."

Seneca smiled. "That was my second guess!" he said, buttering a scone, "He's very strong and powerful. I believe he has a very good chance to win."

_I hope so. _

"It's just a silly schoolgirl crush," I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I picked up a custard tart and started to eat as if I didn't really care that much about the blond boy. Seneca shrugged. "Often it is the schoolgirl crush that blossoms into a full-fledged romance," he said wisely and took a large bite of scone.

"When did you become so philosophical?" I asked sarcastically. Seneca just smiled that mysterious smile of his.

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked the Tributes from District 1 and 2: Marvel, Glimmer, Cato and Clove. Marvel glared at me and licked his lips menacingly. Glimmer looked as if she wanted to claw my eyes out. Clove just stared at me creepily. Cato smirked and refused to break eye-contact.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, but Seneca didn't seem to notice because he said, "Well this is nice! Let's get on with it then." Two Avoxes brought out a screen and a projector. Seneca pressed a button and the projector whirred to life and displayed a forest scene on the screen.

"This is what the arena will look like," he started. As he spoke, Glimmer and Clove took notes. Marvel seemed more interested in picking his nose. And Cato continued to stare at me.

The entire briefing took 20 minutes. At the end, Seneca packed up his files and with a quick glance in my direction, left the room. Marvel and Glimmer's escort came and led them away. Clove wandered off in search of a bathroom.

Cato didn't show any signs of wanting to leave just yet. He seemed far too comfortable sitting there. Ignoring him, I pulled out my cellphone and began chatting to a friend. Bauble said she would come to pick me up from the office, so I had nothing to do but wait.

To pass time, I got up to get a bottle of water. But when I turned around, I smacked into a solid wall of flesh. "What the hell?" I snapped. He was easily a foot taller than me and I had to crane my neck upwards to look at him. Enough was enough. He had to stop this little freaky game he was playing.

"Hello Rose," he smirked and leaned in real close. His scent was distracting me from my anger._ Damn it_.

"Hello Cato," I smirked back. Two can play at this game. His eyes trailed down my face and rested on the slit in the front of my suit. He placed one finger inside the slit and dragged his finger down from my neck to my belly button. I sucked in my breath. Whoa. _Personal space dude._

"What do you think you're doing?" I hissed finally finding myself. Damn you Cato.  
>"Don't you like it?" he said huskily. He was too close. Too <em>damn<em> close.  
>"No, I do not," I snapped furiously.<br>"Then why don't you stop me?" he murmured and placed both hands on my waist, drawing me towards his muscular chest.

"I am asking you as President Snow's daughter. Let. Me. Go. Now," I said through gritted teeth. This had gone on long enough.  
>"But what does Rose want?" Cato murmured hoarsely. His eyes were cloudy with lust. Even he couldn't keep a cap on his raging emotions. My heart thudded loudly in my chest as he slowly leaned in.<p>

X

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews help me update faster!~ The happy penguins! Much love guys!**


	4. Chapter 4 Too Much Monkey Business

**A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed! They mean a lot to me! It lets me know that people are reading it and they like what they're reading so I don't have to change up my writing style, plot, characterization etc.**

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><p>There are many things that give me immense pleasure: eating chocolate mousse, getting dolled up for a posh ball, reading, sleeping, or smoking. But nothing compares to the primal thrill that comes from anticipating a kiss. I couldn't move, not that I wanted to. Cato held me close and tight. The fact that he was so undoubtedly masculine made me feel petite and safe. It made me feel like a woman.<p>

Then the room started to spin. If Cato hadn't been holding me up, I was sure I would have fallen down. I felt a curious warm feeling creep up my face and I did not need a mirror to know that my face was now an unattractive splotchy red. Without breaking eye contact, Cato lowered his face towards mine and gently pressed his lips against mine. His lips were warm and soft. The sudden intimacy of the contact startled me. Cato didn't seem like the type for soft kisses. But who was I to complain? He felt amazing. I could taste mint and something else wonderful, something all his own.

Time seemed to stand still. My clothes began to feel uncomfortably tight. Slowly, my knees buckled and I began to melt against his muscular frame. He was just so _damn_ irresistible. My hands knotted themselves in his hair. I wasn't even sure of what I was doing. I felt like a woman possessed. I chose to forgot that he was a lethal killing-machine and focused all my energies on the feel of his mouth against mine.

As I yielded to him, he suddenly changed. It was like a switch had flipped inside Cato. The gentle Cato disappeared and in his place an animalistic version appeared. Our simple, innocent act became carnal. The kiss deepened into something heated and passionate. Cato was rough. Cato was everywhere. I felt as if I was holding a firecracker to my body. I didn't dare breathe. He ran his massive hands all over my body. He nipped my lip causing me to shiver. His scent was clouding my mind and judgement.

_'This is wrong! You're getting too close! Back out before you get in too deep,'_ a voice in my head screamed.  
>But an even louder voice screamed <em>'RAVISH ME!'<em>

Suddenly, my eyes began to get blurry and I started to feel faint. _Is that normal?_ _What the hell? _

Cato pulled away immediately and cupped my face with one hand. "What's wrong?" he said. His breathing was labored and ragged. Secretly, I was glad that he too had been strongly affected by the potency of the kiss. "I forgot to breath," I murmured embarrassed. Cato smirked and released me.  
>As predicted, I awkwardly tumbled down to the floor and fell flat on my butt, making an unattractive 'Oof!' sound as I fell. Cato gaped at me wide-eyed before bursting into laughter until he was red-faced, doubled over, clutching his stomach.<p>

"Shut up. And pull me up." I hissed darkly and glared until he helped me up. I had a good mind to take of my shoe and hit him over the head with it. Never mind that he could have easily snapped my neck even before I had taken off my shoe.  
>Automatically, I pulled out my mirror and took a look. Kendra is going to kill me. I looked liked I had run a marathon. My lips were swollen and red. My hair was a bird's nest. I tried my best to flatten my messy hair and to fix my smudged makeup. But I only succeeded in making myself look more like a raccoon and less like the President's daughter.<p>

"What have you done?" I muttered in disbelief. Cato raised an eyebrow and frowned. "I just kissed you like no one's ever kissed you before and you're worried about your hair?"  
>"Don't be so cocky," I said in mock-outrage. "You weren't that gre-mmpf!" He silenced me again with a mind-numbing, breathtaking kiss.<p>

Cato finally pulled away and linked his forehead with mine. His eyes were shut and he seemed to be catching his breath. For a few seconds, I felt genuinely happy. Then I remembered the Games and the fact that Cato would probably be dead within a week. I didn't want him to die. Ever. All I wanted to do was kiss him again.

"There is a ball tonight," I said shakily. "Will you come?"  
>Cato nodded and kissed my cheek. Why did his simple touches and kisses affect me so much? Thousands of people have kissed me on the cheeks at parties and events and I had never been affected like this. But then again, they weren't Cato.<p>

"I have to go find Clove now," he finally whispered. I nodded. He released me, but held my arm steady so that I could find my footing. Without even hesitating, I reached up and fixed his suit and tie and then straightened his hair. He smirked.

And just like that, he was gone.

A few seconds later, Bauble burst into the room desperately apologizing for her lateness. "Traffic is terrible! Everyone's so excited for the Games!" She caught sight of my unkempt appearance and cupped her mouth in shock.

"It's okay Bauble," I smiled widely and gave her a hug. Confused, Bauble patted me stiffly. I could understand her confusion. I normally never initiated personal contact. The last time she had tried to hug me, I had screamed "Rape!" in the middle of the crowded city and ran away.

"I love you Bauble. Have I ever told you that before?"

"No...but you once said that I was smarter than I looked."

"Okay," I sighed contentedly, barely listening to her. Nothing could ruin my mood. Except, of course:

"The party?" Bauble asked and whipped out her tablet. Oh right...the party. I took out a cigarette. This was going to be big.

X

Okay, I had to admit that the dress was a little tight. Kendra had commented about it, earning a severe glare from me. Kendra then shrugged and resumed her work on my eyelashes. Whatever...I would work it off eventually.

The dress Rodriguez had sent over was stunning. He knew that I didn't care for the over-the-top fashion worn by the rest of the Capitol, so he had personally designed something elegant and subtle. The strapless dress I wore was the color of chocolate. There was a smattering of sparkly diamonds all over the bodice. Bauble had sniffed and wiped a tear away when she saw me wearing it.

The venue, Andromeda Hall, was beautiful. The ceiling had been designed to look like a starry night sky. There was a large table covered in appetizers and finger foods. There were two wine fountains: one for red and one for white. The musicians played a beautiful, haunting melody. I was really proud of our team for having pulled it off. An event like this was no joke.

The guests began to arrive fashionably late and assimilated into packs based on position in society. The more important people were surrounded by laughing flunkies, while the lesser known guests milled around trying to get attention and work their way up the social ladder. The sponsors kept mostly to themselves, watching the Tributes intently and taking bets. At first, the Tributes were unsure of what to do and stood apart with their own Districts. But they soon began to participate. They realized how important it was to get sponsors' approval.

I hadn't seen Cato yet and I was getting more nervous by the minute. To make matters worse, every now and then people would drag me into dull conversations and I was starting to get annoyed.

"And then I gave him forty million dollars and told him to buy the damn museum!" Mr. Darius, a bespectacled old man with quite deep pockets, said and laughed loudly. All the minions that surrounded him dissolved into fits of giggles as if they had heard the funniest joke ever. I smiled politely and excused myself before Mr. Darius could start telling another delightful anecdote about his errant son. They were only marginally better than the stories about his plastic gargoyle of a wife.

Every few minutes, my eyes would drift around the room looking for Cato, but no such luck. Suddenly, I felt a hand on the small of my back. "Good evening Miss Snow," he murmured. I turned around, struggling to hide my smile, and said, "How do you do?" with all the grace a young lady should shower on her suitor.

"I'm very well thank you," He said, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Would you like to get some fresh air?" I nodded trying to hide my eagerness. We stepped out of the French doors and onto a balcony. Cato closed the door and drew the curtains so that we could have some privacy without some old hag pressing her nose up against the window as we sucked face.

The night was balmy and smelled sweetly of roses. I had specifically requested the florists to fill the ballroom with white roses to please my father. But I wasn't sure if he would even make it tonight. He said he had work to do.

"You look beautiful," Cato said and handed me a rose. I smiled graciously and accepted the token. "You look very dashing yourself."

And he did. He wore a black tuxedo with a white rose in the button-hole. His blond messy locks were slicked back making him look very debonair. He looked completely different from the simple boy who had so desperately volunteered at the Reaping.

"I have never done this before," he said resting his arms on the balcony ledge and leaning against it casually. "Done what?" I asked and joined him in his pensive observation of the Capitol skyline.

"This, what we're doing. I mean I've kissed girls before, but not like this," he said.

"What _are_ we doing Cato?"

"I don't know. You're the President's daughter. I'm a Tribute. You will sit safely and watch me fight for my life." Cato said blankly. I sighed. I had spent the last few days forgetting the fact that he might die. I didn't think I could watch him die. Not after what we had just been through.

"Tell me about your life Cato," I said, changing the subject. "What's it like in District 2?"

"It's difficult. We are trained from a young age to come here and fight. My family are highly respected because we have 8 winners," he said. "At first I was excited to compete. It would bring great prestige when I win. But now, I am unsure. What is the purpose of the Games? To control us? There is no glory. Only enslavement." He sighed as if he had just gotten a big burden off his chest. We sat in silence while he collected his thoughts.

"So, tell me about your life," he said suddenly. "What's the Capitol like?"

"Its not as easy as you think. At least I haven't had it easy. My mother died a few months after I was born. I lived in the Palace until I was seven. Then my father sent me far away so that I would not become like the other citizens. He thought them distasteful. I returned when I was 13. I've been working for my father ever since," I said all in one breath. It felt good to share this with someone.

Cato took my hand in his and gently rubbed my knuckles with his thumb. I marveled at the differences between our hands. His hand was large, rough, tanned, and scarred. My hand was small, pale, smooth and perfectly manicured.

"What do you think of me Rose?" Cato whispered as if he was telling me a great secret.

"I think you're brave, strong, handsome and kind," I whispered. I didn't know why we were whispering. But it felt right. I felt like one of those women in stories who confess their affections to their lovers in hushed whispers.

"I think that you are beautiful, smart, witty and clumsy," he whispered. I frowned. "I am not clumsy!" He chuckled when I smacked his arm. I probably hadn't hurt him at all.

"I really like you Rose."

"I really like you."

"So shall we continue acting like the Games don't exist?"

"Let's."

Cato wasted no time in pushing me up against the brick wall and kissing me. I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist. He hoisted me up. Wedged between Cato and the wall, I couldn't even think about anything else. He was_ such_ a good kisser. He brought out the worst in me. He easily destroyed the polished professional image I had worked so hard to create with a light peck on the lips. He was like a hit of heroin and I was already hooked. I wanted more and more.

_'He might die soon. Then what are you going to do?'_ a voice nagged. But all I could think about was Cato's sudden fascination with my neck. He knew where to bite, to lick, and to kiss. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I moaned.

"Who's your daddy?" Cato chuckled and nibbled my neck.

"I believe I am," said a voice.

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><p><strong>Thank you reviewers!~ keep em' coming!~ the happy penguins!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5 Not A Second Time

**A/N: Most characters and plot elements belong to the Hunger Games Franchise and Suzanne Collins. But I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I borrowed them for a while!~**

**This is much longer than my usual chapters. Therefore I am glad. **

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><p>"Daddy!" I squeaked and shoved Cato away. Unfortunately, in my haste to put distance between Cato and me, I had forgotten that he was holding me up against the wall. I tumbled to the ground, arms flailing and dignity departing with every passing second. I was mortified. I wished that the earth would open up and swallow me whole. Desperately, I scrambled to my feet almost falling over again. Cato stood up straight and cleared his throat uncomfortably. His face was slowly turning red.<p>

Coriolanus Snow had both hands in pockets and stood casually against the French doors, but the expression on his face was not so forgiving. My father's mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes had turned to chips of ice. When in uncomfortable situations like this, I did what I do best. I plastered on a wide smile and prayed for the best._ Shit._

"Rose," my father said coldly, "I believe I haven't been introduced to your friend yet." He looked at Cato from head-to-toe with poorly concealed distaste. My smile disappeared.

"Dad, this is Cato," I muttered uncomfortably. "Cato, meet President Snow."

"It's great to meet you, Mr. President. It truly is an honor," Cato said confidently and extended his hand. My father ignored the gesture and turned his steely gaze on me. "Rose, get inside the ballroom." Without hesitation, I meekly ran back into the glitzy hall. My heart was pounding and not because of Cato's talented fingers. My dad was the sort of man you did not want to cross. He never raised his voice and he never struck out, but that made him all the more dangerous.

I desperately wanted to eavesdrop on Cato's and my father's conversation. But I knew better. Instead, I slinked off into a corner, expertly avoiding Mr. Pritchett's offer of a dance, and poured myself a stiff drink. I knew my father wouldn't actually kill or imprison Cato. He couldn't afford to do so this close to the games. The spectators wanted a show and would not be content with 23 Tributes. But knowing my father, he would find other ways to make Cato's life a living hell.

The party wore on late into the night and the guests slowly began to depart. I had not seen Cato since my father had interrupted our activities and I was worried. What had happened? My father and Cato had vanished without a trace. In the end, I was left in an empty ballroom, in a ridiculously snug dress, feeling miserable.

X

As expected, my father was angry. No...that is an understatement. He was livid. My father strongly believed that no boy was good enough for me. Most boys were too intimidated to approach me anyway, and the ones that did were treated awfully by my father. Its not surprising that I've been alone while other girls my age had boyfriends. My father summoned me to his office the very next morning. I had barely slept last night and I had a terrible hangover. I really wasn't in the mood for a lecture. Keenan came to escort me to father's office. As usual, Keenan had a self-satisfied grin on his mousy little face. I had to physically restrain myself from throwing coffee in his smug face when he had arrived in the morning. It would only offer momentary comfort and I did not want more trouble than what I already had.

Meekly, I walked into my father's office expecting a harsh punishment. My father sat with his fingers interlocked. He did not look happy. There were numerous bloodstained tissues all over his desk and in the waste-bin. He was getting sicker. He gestured to the chair in front him and I sat down.

"Rose, I am very disappointed in you," he said. I gulped and stared at my feet.

"What were you thinking?" my father said in a dangerously low voice. "He is a Tribute. You are my daughter. What were you thinking when you decided to form a relationship?"

"Father," I started but he cut me off with a wave of his hand. "Do not talk your way out of this one. You will not succeed. I am very disappointed in you Rose. You know that he will be sent to the Arena in a few days and he might not come back. And still you choose to pursue this silly romantic adventure?" I did not trust myself to speak.

My father turned his back to me and surveyed the Capitol through the enormous window behind his desk. He was deep in thought, no doubt thinking of an appropriately harsh punishment.

After an eternity, he turned around and said, "You are forbidden from seeing this boy. Your duties as Liaison will no longer be required."

I fought a losing battle trying to hold back my tears. My work was something I took pride in. I did not take kindly to being fired by my own father. Nor did I want to stop seeing Cato.

"You may leave." He gestured to the door and turned back again. Humiliated, I walked out of the office. Keenan was outside smiling widely, acting as if he hadn't been listening through the door. That earned him a quick punch to the ribs from me.

Bauble came to pick me up. She eyed me worriedly, but thankfully, she did not ask anything. When we arrived at the flat, I noticed two Peacekeepers manning the door to my flat. Then I lost it. I couldn't hold them back anymore. I burst into tears. The Peacekeepers eyed me curiously but did not comment. Bauble hastily ushered me into my apartment. I ran upstairs to my bedroom and locked the door. I felt like a prisoner in my own home, in my own city. I couldn't believe my father had assigned armed guards to loiter outside my house. I felt betrayed. The only person who could help me now was the one person I wasn't allowed to see.

X

It had been days since I had last seen Cato.

True, our 'relationship' had barely lasted a day. But all the hidden promises and exciting prospects that might have come out of it constantly came to mind. I missed the feel of Cato's mouth. I missed his wandering hands. I missed him.

I wasn't allowed out of the flat unaccompanied and I couldn't attend events if Cato was there. So with nothing to do, I lounged around the house watching television and eating like a pig. I felt useless. I had become used to the massive workload and now that I was sitting a home I truly missed it. Work was a great distraction from all my bad habits: Cato, smoking, over-eating and being a class-A bitch.

I was the most popular socialite in Panem. Now I was sitting in my footed pajamas eating cheesy nachos watching reruns of sitcoms.

The Tributes had already finished three days of training. That day, they were scheduled to appear before the Gamemakers. Under _normal_ circumstances, I would have attended and passed my own judgments. But I was under house arrest. Even Bauble had deserted me to hang out with her friends. The entire household staff had been briefed about my punishment. And frankly, it was a bit embarrassing.

I looked at the clock. It was way past 9. The Gamemakers should have announced the scores by then. So I switched on the television and waited with bated breath for the announcer to declare the score each Tribute had received. I was glad to find that Cato received a 10. With a high score like that, he would have no trouble finding sponsors. This would undoubtedly help him in the Arena. My good mood disappeared when I saw that the girl from District 12, Katniss, had received an 11.

Not knowing what to do other than think about Cato, I resumed eating nachos until Bauble stumbled in completely smashed and giggling like crazy. I wanted to tear her eyes out. She had just come back from a party celebrating the high scores of the Careers, while I sat all alone at home.

I ignored her and went up to my room, trying to get some sleep. Nowadays, I was always worried about what would happen to Cato in the Arena that even the simplest tasks seemed Herculean to me. I needed to distract myself before my insides spontaneously burst from all the built-up pressure brewing.

X

The forest was unusually dense and the sunlight barely filtered through the thick foliage. It smelled like rotting vegetation, animal feces, and blood. The unmistakable coppery scent wafted through the trees causing me to gag. I had no idea what I was doing in the middle of a forest. I had never even seen a forest outside of picture and paintings. I was completely out of my element. I was used to ball rooms and gala dinners. Not twigs, mud, and sulfurous droppings.  
>There was a fallen, charred tree trunk to my left and a murky pond to my right. The forest was deafeningly silent. So silent that I freaked out when an enormous bullfrog croaked. It took me a while to assure myself that it was just a frog.<p>

Standing still made me nervous, so I began to walk in a random direction, looking for help. The forest seemed to stretch on endlessly. My heart sunk with each passing tree trunk. I did not even know what direction I was walking in. It was starting to get dark and I felt dizzy from lack of food. I had lost all hope and reconciled myself to curling up in a fetal position and bawling my eyes out when I heard a strange gurgling noise coming from my right. Without a second thought, I ran as fast as I could towards the source.

I came to a clearing with a stream running through the middle. On the banks of the stream there was a familiar head of blond hair drinking water from cupped hands.

"Cato!" I yelled and ran towards him. He whipped around: one hand already pulling out his sword while the other reached for the dagger tied around his waist. His eyes were dark and his mouth was contorted in anger. I stopped dead in my tracks and eyed the weapons in shock. _Why did Cato have weapons?_

Cato glared at me for a few minutes, frozen in warrior-mode. Then he realized what he was seeing.

"Rose?" Cato asked dumbfounded. His sword clattered to the ground and he relaxed his stance. Hesitantly, I approached him till we were inches apart. Cato slowly raised a hand and brushed my cheek with it. I couldn't believe my eyes. If not for the same twinkling blue eyes, I wouldn't have believed that the boy in front of me was Cato. His face was gaunt. His blond hair was matted and stained. There was a large gash across his chin. Large bloodstains were on his chest. I prayed that they weren't his own.

He cupped my face and touched me all over trying to make sure that I was real and not some hallucination brought on by lack of food and rest. His mouth twisted into a poor imitation of a smile, but that was enough for me. I reached up and pressed my lips against his. To my horror, he did not kiss back. His hands dropped to his side limply.

"What are you doing here?" he said. His expression changed from one of wonder to anger. "It's not safe. Get out now."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. Then it hit me. Seneca's presentation had shown the exact same forest scene.

I was in the Arena.

"I'm not leaving you here." I muttered trying to be brave. In reality, I was shitting myself in fear. Cato roared in frustration. The sudden emotional outburst frightened and confused me. What had happened to him in the Arena? He had changed. He looked...broken

Sensing my fear, Cato softened his expression and pulled me in for a rough hug. I snuggled my nose against his neck and inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like pine cones. He leaned in to kiss me, but before he could, someone yelled, "Got you!" from behind me.

I whipped around and saw a Tribute running towards us holding a massive spear in his hand. The spear flew out of his grasp and cut through the air in a long, graceful arc. Before I could even scream, Cato pushed me behind him. The spear skewered him. The force of the impact sent him flying backwards and he crashed into me. Dazed, I looked at Cato and uttered a muffled scream. It was unreal. The length of metal protruding from his chest and the vast amount of blood gushing out of the wound sickened me. Cato looked at the spear in disbelief. He then looked into my eyes and groaned in pain.

"Stay with me Cato," I muttered over and over again holding his face in my hands. He continued to shake until finally, he stopped moving. Desperately, I kissed his lips. There was no response. All of a sudden, the walls that I had so carefully built around myself shattered into a million tiny particles. I felt as if I had been punched in the face. Clutching his limp form to my chest, I screamed until my throat was sore.

X

I was still screaming when I woke up among tangled sheets, drenched in sweat. Immediately, Bauble burst into the room and switched on the lights. She saw me sitting there shaking uncontrollably and rushed to my side. Disoriented, I looked at my surroundings. Then I burst into tears.

"Oh honey," Bauble said and pulled me in for a hug. "It was only a dream." I continued to cry on her shoulder. Under normal circumstances, I would have pushed her away, but right then I just needed to be held. I cried like I had never cried before. The confident, unperturbed professional was reduced to a quivering, snotty mess.

It took a while for me to calm down. Bauble urged me to take deep breaths and for once, I did what I was told. She called for a glass of water and then handed me a box of tissues.  
>When I had finally collected myself, she took my hands in hers and we sat together in silence. It was quite unlike Bauble to go more than five minutes without speaking and I was grateful that she did for my sake.<p>

"Bauble," I croaked, "I need to see him."

Bauble stiffened and drew back slightly. She, along with the rest of my entourage, had been given orders to prevent any contact between me and Cato. Orders from the President were always obeyed without objection.

"Please Bauble," I clutched her hands tightly. "Please let me see him."

Bauble fought an internal battle. She chewed on her lip nervously. She desperately wanted to help me, but she did not want to be jailed. But Bauble's fanciful romantic notions got the better of her and she sighed.

"Come quickly," she muttered after a long time. "The Peacekeepers are taking a break. But they will be back soon."

I jumped out of bed and pulled on a robe over my shirt and shorts. I wasn't thinking about the consequences about my behavior. I was only concerned about making sure Cato was alive and safe.  
>Bauble and I hurried out of the apartment without being seen. It was a short walk to Cato's building and I could have done it alone. But it was very late and I was glad Bauble was there to keep me safe. Not that she would be much help in the event of a mugging or a rape.<p>

When we reached the second floor, Bauble knocked on the door lightly. An Avox answered sleepily rubbing her eyes. When she saw me, her eyes widened and she stepped aside. Without saying anything, I ran in and went upstairs to the bedrooms. There were four of them. I stopped at the first one and prayed that it was Cato's room. Gingerly, I opened the door. The sight that greeted me repulsed me thoroughly. An unmistakable head of neon blue curls was fast asleep on the pillow. Next to her was a short, hairy balding man that I clearly recognized as Mr. Powell, a very rich business man. I slowly closed the door hoping that they wouldn't wake up. Shaking off the horrible images, I turned to the next bedroom.

There lying on the bed was Cato. I sighed in relief. He was alone. I sighed in relief again. Cato was sleeping with one arm over his head and the other across his chest. His mouth was open slightly. It was hard to imagine that an angelic face like his could transform into a monstrous killer.

Cautiously, I crawled into bed with him. Cato opened his eyes and yawned. When he saw me lying there, his eyes widened. "Am I dreaming?" I laughed. "No silly."  
>Cato sat upright and pulled me in for a bone-crushing hug. It felt so good to be in his arms again. Thankfully, he did not smell like pine cones.<br>"What are you doing here?" he whispered and kissed my forehead.  
>"I had a dream," I muttered and snuggled against his chest. His broad arms encircled me easily. I felt so warm and safe there.<br>"It was just a dream," he said and kissed my nose. At any other time, I would have laughed at that.  
>"Cato, I saw you die," I murmured and squeezed my eyes tight to prevent any tears from flowing. Cato brushed my cheek with his thumb and whispered, "Its okay. I'm alive and here now."<p>

I kissed him on the cheek, but he quickly turned his face and caught me full on the mouth. I sighed and melted against his warm body. He was just perfect. We were perfect. I could imagine every day of the rest of my life starting and ending like this.

The door suddenly burst open. "Rose!" someone yelled.

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><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! I'm not sure about this chapter...what do you think? Leave me a review with your comments and advice.**

**~the happy penguins!**


	6. Chapter 6 Tomorrow Never Knows

"Rose!" Bauble yelled. I jumped up suddenly. Bauble stood at the door with a terrified expression on her face. Her silky red kimono was askew and her makeup was smudged. I couldn't help feel a little annoyed at that. Who the hell wore makeup at 3:00 am when helping two lovers reunite?

"We have to go. The Peacekeepers are back," Bauble hissed. When she saw us together in bed, she turned beetroot-red and covered her eyes hastily.

"Geez Bauble," I muttered irritably. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and hauled myself up away from Cato's warm embrace. "We're not having sex."  
>"Yet." Cato muttered with a mischievous smirk. My jaw dropped in mild outrage but I didn't have time to act on it before Bauble started pleading.<br>"Can we please just go?" Bauble said, still covering her eyes.  
>"Just give me a minute," I snapped and turned to Cato. Cato looked up at me with droopy eyes and a dopey smirk on his face. He looked tired and I hated to keep him up but I had to know. "Cato, what did my father say to you the night of the ball?" He was about to say something but I didn't have a chance to hear.<p>

"Oh come on!" Bauble yelled and pulled me out with remarkable strength for such a thin, lanky woman. She literally ran out of the building, dragging me along. I had to sprint to keep up with her. I couldn't even understand how she was running so fast in six inch heels. My own bunny slippers threatened to slip off any second and my robe was falling apart.  
>I was mildly annoyed at Bauble for not letting Cato finish, but I didn't say it. She had let me see Cato and I was forever indebted to her whether I liked it or not.<p>

When we got back, the two Peacekeepers had returned from their coffee break. They were armed with massive machine guns and were eyeing us suspiciously.  
>"I went out for a smoke." I snapped. The Peacekeepers annoyed me to no end. They did not let me leave the house unaccompanied and did not let anyone other than my household staff enter. Did they expect me to stay indoors all day? As expected, they did not like my weak excuse. Undoubtedly, father would receive a report of my nighttime escapades tomorrow. In the end, after receiving a vicious glare from a red-faced, panting Bauble, the two Peacekeepers stepped aside. Relieved, I lunged for the door, swung it open and slammed it shut behind us.<p>

Breathing rather heavily, Bauble flopped down on the sofa, clutching her heart. It was probably the first time she had exercised in her entire life. I sat down beside her and proceeded to fan myself with my hand. What we had done was exhilarating and quite frankly, I felt more alive than I had in a long while.

"That was fun." I said happily. Bauble surprised me by glaring at me and flipping the bird. It was such so unexpected and so unlike her that I started to giggle. I stuffed my fist in my mouth, but to no avail. The dam of chuckles burst forth and spilled all over Bauble's bewildered face. My condition was infectious because soon Bauble cracked a smile and started laughing too.

When we had finally assumed dignified expressions, I took a deep breath and turned to Bauble. "Thank you Bauble, for everything." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Bauble looked at me very curiously then patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. "What happened to you? He's changed you," she said. I shook my head and smiled before heading up to my room.

X

Thankfully, my father relented and allowed me to attend the interview. He had to because the citizens of Panem were expecting me to be there. The interview was like a meet-your-fans event. It was hosted by Caesar Flickerman who also hosted the Games. Flickerman has been host it for as long as I can remember. The man never seemed to age!

My prep team and I were backstage getting ready. Honestly, after days of being stuck in my house I was glad to be outside even if that meant being in a stuffy, over-heated, backstage greenroom.

Kendra had chosen a strapless long chiffon dress in a pale lavender blush. There was was an intricate beading arrangement of diamonds around the waist. The dress seemed to float even I walked. The material was so light and airy, at times I felt as if I wasn't wearing anything at all. Kendra had tied my hair on the top of my head in an elegant bun. She placed a diamond clasp in it and then made me put on enormous diamond earrings. I predicted that by the end of the evening my ears would be aching like mad.

For some reason, I couldn't even recognize my reflection anymore. Was it the same girl who had fallen over and over again while her desperate dance instructor tried to teach her how to move gracefully? Was it the same girl who, on a whim, had set the cook's jacket on fire just to see what would happen?

"You'll be seated in the first row. Right next to Mr. Pratchett." Bauble rambled on while making ticking gestures with her fingers as each task on the tablet was completed. Today, Bauble was wearing a bright yellow smock that made her look like a banana. She had piled her unruly black curls on the top of her head in a strange twist. Her dusky skin had this weird, golden glow to it. But she looked really pretty.

"You look lovely Bauble." I said in a dopey manner. For some reason, I had softened towards her. Bauble became used to my mushy behavior and chose to roll her eyes or scoff. The tables had been turned.

"I have work to do." Bauble said suddenly and then rushed off in a bright yellow blur.

I sighed and started meddling with the lace detailing on my hem. When I'm left alone, I always get bored fast and then do something stupid. By keeping my fingers busy, I could prevent myself from breaking something or hitting someone. It also distracted me from my thoughts. But unfortunately, my mind was in full-on Cato mode. I couldn't help myself from looking around for him. He should have been here by now and the fact that he wasn't worried me.

"Rose." a voice murmured behind. My stomach started doing cartwheels and I turned around and smiled demurely. "Hello Cato." He was dressed immaculately in a well-fitted gray suit and pale cream shirt. His blond locks were slicked back. He was beautiful. It amazed me how easily he had acclimatized to wearing expensive suits. From what he had told me, the people in District 2 all wore the same brown garments. This probably was the first time he had ever worn a suit and yet he carried it off with admirable confidence and sophisticated charm.

"You look beautiful," he murmured softly so that to a casual observer it wouldn't seem as if we were even talking. "I want to kiss you so bad it hurts."

"Then kiss me." I whispered and shamelessly raised my face towards his, daring him to lean closer.

"I might rip that pretty little dress off you." he murmured, eyes twinkling.

"By all means, rip away. I have many more where that came from." I whispered and bit my lip to stop laughing. He must have taken my lip-biting in a different way because he leaned in even closer.  
>"God, you're irresistible." Cato growled and kissed me so quickly that I wasn't even sure it had happened. Slightly dazed, I looked around to make sure no one had seen us. Thankfully, only a few stylists remained in the room and they were all preoccupied with their makeup to even notice our presence.<p>

"Hello, my lovelies!" A voice sang from the doorway. Caesar Flickerman swaggered in followed by his massive entourage. He had a wide grin fixed permanently on his face. He was like a ball of positive energy and I couldn't help smiling at the man's enthusiasm. It was infectious. Like measles.

"Rose!" Caesar said when he spotted me and ran over for a hug. He enveloped me in a tight hug. His expensive cologne assaulted my senses. He then pulled away and air-kissed me on both cheeks.

"You've been hiding haven't you!" Caesar said in mock-severity. He wagged his finger at me. "Its been days since we saw you! Next time, you will definitely attend every event. Do you hear now?"

"Yes sir." I said and grinned. Satisfied, Caesar turned to Cato and uttered a small feminine scream as if he had just noticed his presence. "You're the Tribute, aren't you?" Caesar asked. Cato nodded and smiled uneasily.

"Welcome, welcome!" Caesar grinned and kissed Cato full on the lips. Cato was too shocked to protest. I had to hold my sides firmly to prevent myself from bursting into laughter.

Caesar pulled away with a satisfied sigh. Cato's skin had turned a curious shade of pale green. "Well! We should do that again sometime!" Caesar said. He winked and smacked Cato's behind soundly before walking away. The entire room of stylists and designers followed him out of the room, allowing Cato and me some privacy.

Cato furiously wiped his lips on his sleeve. I laughed until there was no air left in my lungs and I was left shaking silently.

"That's not funny." Cato muttered darkly and grabbed my shoulders. I immediately sobered up. He leaned in until we were inches apart. His eyes kept flashing from my eyes to my lips. I had only seen this side of him once before. It frightened and intrigued me. He looked menacing, even though I knew he would never harm me. Well at least not intentionally. I couldn't predict what he could do when he lost his senses and started to think in physical terms.

When the polished, perfect Cato disappeared and the animalistic version took it's place, he could do things that I could never imagine. A part of me warned me against him. Another wanted to learn everything about him and see what lay underneath.

His eyes darkened lustily and he licked his lips. I shivered in delight at what would come. Cato crashed his lips against mine. He devoured me. My body felt as if it was on fire. Suddenly, even my light translucent dress seemed too hot. Cato pulled me close against his solid body, leaving no room for me to breathe.

Wave after wave of emotion crashed over me. We were getting way ahead of ourselves and I needed to stop it. I pulled away gasping. Cato lost no time in ravaging my neck. I moaned and writhed in his arms. He was like a puppeteer who knew which strings to pull. I melted into his fiery embrace.

"Please stop." I muttered, hating every word that slipped out of my mouth. Cato pulled back with a triumphant smirk. That gave me enough time to squeeze out of his strong grasp. "Not here." I muttered hoarsely. I hated him for doing this to me, yet I loved every minute of it. I'm such a hypocrite.

Cato nodded and started to straighten his suit. With a few quick movements, he fixed his look and returned to a cool, collected Cato. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and nearly cried. My hair was a mess. Strands were slipping out of the clasp and falling across my face. If Kendra saw me, she would have a heart attack. Cato noticed my pained expression and turned me around to face him. He pulled out the diamond clasp and tossed it aside. He moved my hair around until he was satisfied.

"There." he said and kissed my forehead. I smiled gratefully and started to thank him, but Bauble poked her head into the room and snapped. "Let's go. It's time. Come on!" When she saw Cato, she frowned. I rolled my eyes and followed her out of the room, but not before glancing at Cato over my shoulder.

He smiled and waved.

"Good Lord." Bauble muttered and guided me by the elbow, rather forcefully. She led me through a separate hallway that was reserved for VIPs to a huge auditorium. The back rows were already filled with people. They were all chattering excitedly. Some noticed my presence and cheered. Soon the whole hall erupted into a chorus of applause and shouts of my name. I smiled and waved at them all. The photographers swarmed around me like bees. To a normal person, the bright flashes would disorient. But I was used to them.

I took my assigned seat in the VIP booth. I was to sit between Mr. Pratchett and Mrs. Marjorie Humpelswartznich. Only the latter had arrived. "Hello darling!" Marjorie giggled and jumped up to hug me. She was an obese, dumpy little woman who thought herself immensely beautiful. She was always giving me fashion, beauty, and health advice. Sometimes I wanted to tell her to follow her own advice.

She wore a pink velvet dress that made her look like a bit of melting cake. There was a large cottony puff on top of her head. Instead of a purse, she carried a woven basket. Nestled in between pink satin folds, were two little pink bunnies. They were barely days old. They moved around slowly and seemed to be scared of all the flashing lights and commotion. I felt a pang of pity for the neon rabbits. They were so small and fragile that it angered me that someone would use them as accessories.

"Do you like my outfit?" Marjorie asked a little desperately and twirled. I nodded with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Marjorie beamed and sat back down heavily, tossing the basket to the side, jostling the rabbits unceremoniously. The little things shook with fear. Their noses quivered and their cotton ears trembled. I had the strong urge to punch Marjorie in her fat pug-nosed face.

Ignoring it, I sat down. Mr. Pratchett arrived and gave me a lecherous glance before sitting down. Marjorie and he then began having an animated conversation, while I sat in between, cursing under my breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice boomed. A hush fell across the auditorium. The lights dimmed and a spotlight illuminated the stage. Caesar Flickerman stood in all his flamboyant glory with a devilish grin. I had to admit, underneath all the plasticky blue makeup, he was handsome in a feminine, understated way.

Marjorie and Mr. Pratchett fell silent. I nearly sighed out loud in relief.

"By the way dear," Marjorie suddenly whispered to me, "I simply adore your makeup. It's so sensual and passionate. You must loan me your stylist." I nodded vaguely before remembering that Kendra hadn't put any makeup on me.

I pulled out my pocket mirror and looked at my face. My skin was flushed with a warm, healthy glow. My cheeks were crisp-apple-red. My lips were a peachy pink shade...as if I had just been kissed thoroughly. I smirked.

"Marjorie, I could never loan you my stylist." I whispered in mock severity. "I don't want to give all my secrets away."  
>Marjorie winked and squeezed my hand in her hammy fist. "I understand. I wouldn't share Lorenzo for the world."<p>

"Let the show begin!" Caesar said interrupting our little exchange.

The stage lit up like fireworks.


	7. Chapter 7 I Want To Hold Your Hand

**A/N: I have no idea how I'm going to progress from here. Help? Send in ideas and I will try and incorporate them into the story!**

* * *

><p>"I'm your host, Caesar Flickerman!" Caesar's voice boomed through the numerous speakers dotting the Auditorium. This year, Caesar was decked out in blue. It suited him quite well. I could imagine the headlines tomorrow. "Flickerman's Fantastic Fashion Fascinates Fans!" or "Caesar's Captivating Cerulean Clothes!"<p>

"I think its Kierkegaard. I would recognize the stitching on the shoulders anywhere." Marjorie remarked, noticing my appraisal of Flickerman's clothes.  
>"Better than last year!" A reed-like woman sitting in front of us said, turning around in her seat. "Remember last year when he went with a fuchsia zoot suit by Coultier? It was a glaring nightmare!"<p>

Marjorie and I nodded as if we agreed. Well Marjorie probably did. I personally thought that Caesar's outfit last year was bold and fun.

"What are we waiting for? Bring 'em out!" Caesar chuckled. Rounds of delighted laughter filled the hall as if he had just made the funniest joke ever. I smiled politely, because I knew that the cameras would be trained on me, trying to gouge my reaction.

Because I had not been present for a few days, the entire Capitol was abuzz with theories to my disappearance. Some were outrageously funny, while others were scarily accurate.

One tabloid said that I had been spotted in St. Schwartz Spa Haven, enjoying a relaxing pomegranate and honey-milk bath. Another stated that I was having some work done on my body in the form of ruby slivers inserted onto my shoulders.

But another, albeit lesser-known, tabloid stated that I had embarked on a passionate affair with the Tributes. The main contenders were Peeta and Glimmer. Someone swore that they had seen the three of us enter a hotel and book a room for the night. Even I had to laugh at that. Not that I would mind being stuck in between the handsome, rugged baker and the sexy blonde bombshell. Given the chance, I would definitely enjoy that arrangement, although Glimmer hadn't warmed up to me yet and Peeta regarded me with the warmth you reserved for a friend rather than a willing participant in an ardent ménage à trois.

Fortunately, none of the newspapers reported anything between Cato and me. I hoped it would stay that way. If my father found out what I had been doing behind his back, it would not end well.

"Our first Tribute is," Caesar said raising his eyebrows dramatically. "Marvel!"

The Tribute from District 1 swaggered into the spotlight with a self-satisfied grin. I clapped enthusiastically along with the rest of the audience, but secretly I wanted to shove my six-inch heel up his nostril.

"So, Marvel, who're you wearing?" Caesar started. Marvel grimaced before answering. "I'm not really sure but I think it's Kierkegaard Houlding." The audience laughed. Marvel smiled sheepishly for the cameras.  
>"Wonderful," Caesar grinned devilishly. "What are your plans for the Games?"<p>

"Not die!" Marvel laughed. Once more, the audience burst into giggles. They were eating him up. I rolled my eyes. I knew Marvel well enough to know that someone else had written his lines for him. That boy wouldn't know humor if it hit him over the head with a spiked mace.

"Well, what do you think about the girls here in the Capitol?" Caesar asked. Marvel winked for the cameras. I could actually feel every single woman and quite a few men in the audience swoon as if the wink was directed towards them specifically. Marjorie sighed heavily and watched Marvel much too indecently for a woman of her age and size.

Ignoring the urge to call out Marvel's bullshit, I sat still as a statue, only clapping when everyone else did.

"Thank you Marvel!" Caesar finally said when the stupid interview finished. Marvel walked off the stage to a round of happy shouts and healthy applause.

"Our next guest, is the beautiful, the lovely, the wonderful: Glimmer!"

Glimmer sauntered onto the stage in a backless slinky gold number that had a plunging neckline. There was a thigh-high split one one side. Her hair lay in messy curls around her bare shoulders, as if someone had run his hands through it. Her makeup was soft and smoky. Glimmer looked like a vixen on the prowl.

There was a collective gasp of delight from the audience members. I smirked. Glimmer clearly knew how to use her appearance to turn heads. I predicted that she would have quite a few sponsors by the end of the night.

"Wow." Caesar said with a pointed look at the cameras. "Isn't she gorgeous folks?"

Glimmer laughed a deep, throaty chuckle. She was channeling her inner sultry siren. And it worked. Men and women had their eyes glued to her.

"Who designed your dress?" Caesar asked and fingered the fabric.

"Pellagra." Glimmer said with a mysterious smirk. Caesar's eyes widened and he asked, "I thought he stopped designing dresses ages ago?"  
>"I guess he made an exception for me." Glimmer said with a toss of her blonde curls.<p>

I admired her acting, but a little part of me bristled with jealousy. Pellagra had refused to design my outfits countless times, saying that he was 'retired'. And now he was designing one for her? Stupid old fatty. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message to Bauble to remove his name from the guest-list for my birthday party.

Caesar and Glimmer continued their little act for another 10 minutes or so. I could tell that he enjoyed talking to her because he went over the allotted time. Each candidate would have only 8 minutes. In the end, the camera crew had to signal him to end the interview.

"Well, we must say goodbye now Glimmer." Caesar said and pouted for the cameras. They hugged and air-kissed. As Glimmer walked off the stage, she blew a kiss over her shoulder at the audience. The resultant roars took a long while to subside.

"Coming up, we have Cato, who's proven that he is indeed a ladies' man." Caesar said when the deafening cheers had stopped. I sat up just a little bit. This was one interview I did not want to miss.

Confidently and calmly, Cato walked up to Flickerman. They shook hands and both sat down.

"Welcome Cato! How's the Capitol been treating you so far?" Caesar asked with a mischievous smirk. He was obviously remembering the little incident in the dressing room. Cato ignored the suggestive look and replied, "It's been really good. Great crowds. Lovely people. Great food too."

"Is there a special girl in your life? We're all dying to know." Caesar asked and turned to the audience. "Aren't we?" The audience screamed.  
>Cato chuckled and answered, "You could say that."<p>

"What's her name?" Caesar said suddenly very interested. He responded to gossip in the same way a dog responded to a chunk of raw meat.

"I respect her privacy. So I'm not going to say anything." Cato said and shrugged apologetically. The audience groaned.

"Oh well," Caesar sighed. "Let's hope you come back to her."

"I hope so to." Cato said. His eyes scanned the crowds and found mine easily. We locked gazes for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn't bring myself to break away. What was I doing? My father was right. I was making a fool out of myself and Cato. He might be dead by the end of the week and here I was falling in love with him. Love? Who said anything about love? Why was I even thinking about it?

"Thank you Cato!" Caesar said concluding the third interview of the evening. _Great... only 21 to go._

Cato walked off and the next Tribute came on.

"Oh my stars," Marjorie breathed heavily. She fanned herself with a length of pink tulle. She turned towards me and whispered. "Did you see that boy staring at me for so long? Oh he's so young and chiseled and rugged. And he was looking at me!"

I snorted but managed to pass it off as a cough. "I'm sure he was." I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Marjorie giggled like a little school girl.

The next Tribute was Clove. Normally, she resembled a boy. But that night, she looked like a really pretty girl. Her stylist had used warm peach to soften her rough edges.

The interviews after that were uneventful to say the least. I had to struggle to keep myself from yawning. It only became interesting when the girl from District 12 came on. When Caesar asked about her dress, she twirled. The dress looked as if it was on fire.

"Wonderful designer." Marjorie remarked. I nodded vaguely. I was more concerned with people's reactions towards her. They all seemed to like her. A little too much. She might prove a threat to Cato.

Finally, the last interview of the evening walked in: Peeta looking very handsome and debonair in his tuxedo. Flickerman and Peeta immediately hit it off. They had an easy, fun conversation. Peeta was pleasant and charming. I could see why many girls had affections towards him.

"Peeta, tell us, is there a special girl in your life?" Caesar Flickerman asked. "Yeah, but she doesn't know." Peeta admitted. The crowd groaned sympathetically.  
>"Don't worry." Flickerman grinned. "You win this and she'll have to take you."<br>"Winning's not going to help me much." Peeta smiled. "Because she came here with me."

_Oh shit._

The crowd lost it. They were enthralled by the star-crossed lovers. I had to fight the urge to smack my forehead with my palm. Peeta was by far the smartest strategist I had ever known. He knew that by declaring his affections for Katniss, he would make her desirable to sponsors and spectators.

I didn't know whether I wanted to shake his hand or slap him for further ruining Cato's chances. Still, I wasn't worried. I had confidence in Cato. I knew what he was capable of. And above all, I knew that Cato cared deeply for me. He would try everything to survive for me.

"Oh heavens!" Marjorie said and rambled on and on about the young couple. I nodded when she paused, but I wasn't listening to her. I was formulating plans for me to see Cato. He would soon be in the Arena and we would have not way of communicating. I needed to speak with him.

It was almost midnight when I stepped out of the hall, escorted by Bauble. I was unbelievably tired. I wanted to go home and crash into my bed, but I couldn't afford to do so. I had to speak with Cato.

Suddenly, a journalist appeared out of nowhere. "Miss Snow! Miss Snow! Interview!" Protocol dictated that I give at least a few statements on every event so I nodded. The eager journo jumped at the chance and pulled out a tape recorder.

"So, Miss Snow, who do you think is going to win?"

"I would bet my money on Cato. He's smart, strong, and powerful." _And I love him..._

"What did you think about Glimmer's dress?"

"She looked beautiful. Pellagra is a wonderful designer."

"How do feel about Peeta declaring his love for Katniss? Aren't you and Glimmer angry?"

I nearly laughed out loud.

"I'm positively livid." I said with a sly smirk and quickly got into the limousine before the journo could ask me further questions.

X

"This is stupid." Bauble hissed. I rolled my eyes. "You said that 15 times already."

Bauble and I were sneaking into Cato's building through the back door, which wasn't usually guarded. As expected, it was unmanned. We hid in the bushes behind the building. It was dark and we were dressed in black: no one could see us, unless they knew we were there. Bauble wasn't used to crouching in six-inch heels and she had a hard time keeping her balance. I looked around to make sure no one was nearby.

"Coast is clear. I'll be back in an hour." I whispered and lunged for the door before she could protest. Bauble uttered a strangled scream.

Ignoring her, I pushed the steel door with all my strength. After a few minutes of heavy panting, some unladylike swearing, and Bauble muttering hysterically in the background, I managed to move the heavy door. But only just a crack.

"Okay, I'll see you in 1 hour." I whispered with a wide grin and a thumbs-up before slipping into the building. Bauble just glared.

Thankfully, the back stairwells were empty. There were no Peacekeepers, government officials, or Avoxes. After the second flight of stairs, my feet started aching. I had to take off my stilettos and run up the cold metal steps barefooted.

_The things I did for the boy..._

When I reach the second floor penthouse, I knocked on the door while straightening my hair in my reflection on the stainless steel door. A tall blond man answered the door, rubbing his bleary eyes and yawning.

"Hello!" I said as brightly as I could. I plastered on a huge smile. "I've come to see Cato." The Avox man's eyes widened in recognition. He tried to barricade my way but I expertly avoided his arms and slid into the apartment. The man tumbled after me, uttering soundless shouts. He tripped and fell face down on the hardwood floor. But that didn't stop him. Instead, he crawled on all fours towards me and tried to grab my ankles. I jumped out of the way, almost kicking him in the face.

"Stop. Don't you dare tell anyone," I hissed at the man. "Not that you can, but still. I will have you destroyed." The man stopped trying to grab me. He dropped to his knees and folded his arms together. He shut his eyes and started to take deep breaths as if he was calming himself.

"Good. Now go back to sleep." I hissed and ran up the stairs. I opened Cato's door just a little and slipped in through the crack. The room was lit by a bunch of candles sitting on the nightstand. A shirtless Cato was lying on the chaise lounge. His hands were folded above his head and his face was set in a serious expression. The moonlight streaming through the curtains gave the entire room a surreal feel. It also drew attention to Cato's hollow cheeks and dark, sleepless eyes.

I tiptoed towards him, hoping he wouldn't hear me.

"Hello Rose." Cato said with a smirk. Oh darn. I was going to surprise him. Cato got up and held out his arms. My dignity and ladylike manners flew out of the window. I ran up to him and threw my arms around his neck. Cato lifted me three feet off the ground and kissed me until I started to feel faint.

He pulled back with an amused look. We linked foreheads and I couldn't help grinning like an idiot.

"Hey you." I said awkwardly. I was so happy that my head wasn't formulating proper statements. Cato chuckled and led me to the chaise. He pulled me onto his chest and I curled up against him. He smelled so good. Like mints, wood, earth and something else wonderful that I couldn't quite identify. For a while, we sat in silence. I could distinctly hear his heartbeat. It was a steady rhythm that echoed through my body. I felt at peace. We sat like that for a while, until Cato said the words that had been eating my mind away.

"You have to understand that I might not come back." Cato said breaking the comfortable quiet. I huffed impatiently but secretly I was glad he brought up the awful topic. We needed to talk. Seriously. No distractions.

"I understand." I murmured and buried my face in his neck. Cato rubbed my back.

"You don't understand Rosie." Cato said heavily. He turned my face towards his. "If you did, you wouldn't have come here tonight. You would have walked away the very first day you laid your eyes on me." His eyes were sad and his face had turned a sickly gray. I wanted to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I wanted him to love me. I didn't care about our messed up pasts and our uncertain futures. I just cared about what has happening right now. I just wanted to hold his hand and be happy, even if happiness was fleeting.

"Cato, I'm a big girl. I understand what's happening. I understand the consequences." I said. Cato chuckled.

"I never doubted your intelligence. I merely question your ability to deal with difficult topics." Cato murmured into my hair. I stiffened and drew back slightly offended.  
>"Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"<p>

"Nothing Rosebud." Cato said calmly. "I only meant that you tend to avoid what is important because it makes you sad." I stood up and started to storm out of the room when Cato slipped his fingers around my wrist and yanked me back into his arms.

"Please, don't leave. I shouldn't have said anything." he whispered shakily. I looked into the depths of his blue eyes and felt my anger melt away. He looked scared and confused. Heck, I was scared and confused.

"I'm not leaving," I muttered and kissed his forehead. "What we have now is wonderful Cato. Let's not worry about tomorrow and just enjoy what we have."

"You are amazing. I can't believe that you're real." Cato smiled and kissed me softly. "I haven't met any girls like you."

"I'm one in a million baby." I grinned and kissed back. We spent almost an hour lying in each others arms, just talking about everything. He told me about his family back home. He had a little sister who he adored. Her name May and she was only six. I loved the way his face brightened up when he spoke about his sister, his mother, and his life in District 2.

"She drives me crazy sometimes," Cato said, chuckling. "I can't wait to see her again." His eyes were animated and all the worried creases in his forehead were replaced by laugh lines. I had never seen this side of Cato, but I loved it.

"My mom is great too. She bakes really well. Every year on my birthday, she makes this hazelnut pie that tastes amazing. Her secret ingredient is lavender but don't tell anyone. She chops up dried lavender flowers and tosses them in the sugar syrup and boiled nuts." Cato shut his eyes, as if he was remembering the taste of the pie.

"It sounds yummy," I said smiling. It sounded meager in comparison to the fare served in the Capitol but for Cato, it was much better than any cake, pie or tart our chefs could whip up.

"You're a sweet girl, you know." He smiled and kissed me again. "You're always so happy."  
>"Oh trust me, I'm not always smiling. It's just because you're here..."<p>

"Tell me about your childhood. I'm sure it more interesting than mine."

"I actually spent a large portion of my childhood in another country. And I honestly can't remember most of it. But I do remember stealing cream pies from the kitchen for the Avoxes. My father was so mad when he found out, that he banned cream pies from the entire household for months. He relented when it was my birthday and instead of a birthday cake, I had a huge cream pie." I smiled, remembering how my father and hugged me and told me that he was sorry for yelling. Back then, we were much closer. We weren't the type for family dinners and stuff, but he tried to be present in my life. The enormous age gap distanced us, but I was still his daughter and he loved me.

"He says I look exactly like my mother. But I wouldn't know."

"Why not?"

"There aren't any pictures of her. My father had them destroyed because he couldn't bear looking at them. He loved her that much." Never in my entire life had I felt sad about my lack of a mother. My father had more than made up for it by hiring numerous nannies. But suddenly, I wanted a mother who would make hazelnut pies for me, go shopping with me, and take me to the spa and do things that mothers usually do. Cato kissed my shoulder, pulling me away from my heavy thoughts. His lips trailed upward. I smiled and let him kiss my neck, before grabbing his lips between mine.

He shuddered under me. Suddenly, I felt empowered. Here I was making the strongest, fastest, bravest Tribute shiver. Cato let me be in control of the kiss for a few minutes, before exerting his dominance.

Cato suddenly flipped me around so that I was pinned underneath his muscled frame. The power balance had tipped over. That coupled with his masculine cologne made me feel feminine and delicate. I had heard stories about independent women who liked to be in control of their men, but in situations like this, I was more than content to let Cato hold the wheel.

Cato slyly slipped his roaming hands under my shirt... I gasped.

* * *

><p>~see you next chapter my lovelies! ~the happy penguins!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8 Good Morning, Good Morning

The next morning I woke up feeling incredibly tense. Though my mind was filled with images of Cato's soft lips and his large hands with their inquisitive fingers, my neck and shoulders hurt. I made a mental reminder to ask Bauble to schedule an appointment with my masseuse. Groaning, I wiped my bleary eyes and stiff face on Cato's sheets, but the man himself was nowhere in sight. The Tribute's quarters were bathed in bright sunlight streaming through huge open windows, but it seemed strange and unwelcoming to me in the morning.

Thankfully, my clothes were still on me, meaning that Cato and I hadn't done anything we'd regret. As I got out of bed, the television sensed my movement and automatically switched on. I was bombarded with giant glaring banners and loud shrill noises, revealing the latest news from the Capitol: the Hunger Games were about to begin. The lump in my throat refused to dissolve even with forced repeated swallowing. The camera panned around the Arena offering an aerial view of this year's killing site. Seneca had gone with a dense green forest, veined with thin rippling streams.

There were a series of frantic knocks on the door, and I immediately guessed that it was a hassled Bauble having what seemed like her third stroke, but when I opened the door, a rail-thin woman with bright curls hurried in followed by a flood of black-clothed stylists and makeup artists, hauling huge trolleys of makeup and rack upon rack of gowns.

"We mustn't dally," the woman quipped in a crisp English accent. "We have a lot of work to be done." Her caustic tone coupled with her leering gaze made me feel uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but where is Bauble? I would like her to meet me so we can review my schedule," I asked as politely as I could as someone measured my arm's length and another handed me a cup of some green liquid that can only be described as having the same consistency as muck.

"I'm afraid she's been…detained," the woman said grinning. Her canines were filed to sharp points and glinted dangerously in the bright light. "However, I'm Anya. I will take over her duties. Now can we please get her ready?" Anya rolled her eyes as one of the stylists, a young girl with burning red cheeks, tripped and fell flat on her face. "Try and stay upright, dear. We have work to do."

While Anya supervised, occasionally clucking with disappointment, the all-black wearing men and women went to work on my face and body. I was prodded, plucked, scraped and brushed until I gleamed. One of the stylists gave me a quick massage while another force-fed me the green liquid on Anya's orders. Apparently it was a super-food smoothie made with spinach and other vile things. Resisting the urge to vomit, I let myself be dressed. I'd worry about Bauble later. I'm sure she was busy elsewhere and that everything was fine.

Kendra, my old stylist, came bearing bright, silky clothes. But she seemed a bit off. The Kendra I know would have beamed at the sight of Pellagra's designs or a perfectly stitched hem. A golden cuff would send her in hysterics. But this Kendra was quiet and reserved. She refused to make eye contact with me. I was hurt that one of my closest friends wanted nothing to do with me, but I could hardly ask her about it. Not with Anya looming in the background like a great bony bat.

In the end, Kendra settled on a fuchsia gown with a long bouffant skirt and golden swirls around the waist. The material was printed silk and felt very soft against my skin. Though it was a very pretty dress, I'd only be wearing it for a couple of hours while the paparazzi did their job.

Even though I looked every bit the president's daughter on the outside, my stomach was doing cartwheels. I was dizzy and afraid of tripping and tearing the dress. If Bauble had been by my side, she would have held me up, I thought bitterly. Anya kept her frosty pink manicured claws well away from me, but kept shooting me disgusted glances. I couldn't stand her and her pungent perfume.

She ferried me from the Tribute's residences to the premier viewing area, reserved for all the important, A-list people. My "boyfriend" Daryl was there wearing a perfectly tailored grey suit with a fuchsia ascot. He was my escort for the evening. The entire Capitol was under the assumption that Daryl and I were a couple, because my father felt that the rumors about my alleged affairs were getting out of hand.

Daryl was the perfect gentleman. He was handsome tall and muscular and had played varsity ball during his time at Ettington. His father was a diplomat who worked under the president and his mother had been my mother's best friend. Daryl was too perfect, in my opinion. Cato's rough, worn palms and aggressive kisses were far better than Daryl's smooth, silky palms and lukewarm pecks.

"Hello Rosie," Daryl said, flashing his perfect, white smile. "You look lovely." He kissed my hand and I could almost hear the collective sigh of all the spectators in the stands. Painfully aware of the number of eyes trained on me, I smiled back and kissed him on the check, but the gesture felt empty and forced. Daryl was sweet and kind, but he was no Cato. Cato smelled like earth, sea and something else, something indomitably masculine, while Daryl smelled like fresh, clean citrus fruits. Cato's laughter was strong and booming, while Daryl merely chuckled.

"Shall we?" Daryl asked holding out an arm. I nodded and took it. The flurry of photographers rushed to capture this "perfect" moment. No doubt tomorrow's papers would have a full-length picture of us in the style section. Under different circumstances, I would have enjoyed keeping the newspapers guessing. I would have even kissed Daryl on the red carpet for a photo-op. But that day, my mind was occupied with one thing: _Cato._

Once we were safely inside the VIP booths, away from the glaring lights, Daryl's arm slipped away. His attention turned towards his messenger and he spent much of the next hour tapping away, completely ignoring my presence.

However, I was on the edge of my seat waiting for a moment when I could slip away to the holding cells. I had to see Cato before he left. When the hall turned dark and everyone had taken their seat, I turned towards Daryl and muttered that I was going to the bathroom. He didn't seem to hear me or care, so I slipped out as quickly as I could.

I found a cab willing to take me to my apartment where I changed into pants and a shirt. I was utterly unrecognizable from the girl this morning, and I preferred it that way. No one would stop me. The giant floating billboard high above the city glared at me: **ONE HOUR TO GO! **

* * *

><p>When I reached the control center where the Tributes were being held, I'd expected to encounter my father's guards, but thankfully none were in sight. It was convenient. Too convenient.<p>

Fortunately, there was a familiar face amidst the crowd of white-cloaked assistants. But he wasn't too happy to see me.

"What are you doing here?" Seneca hissed, grabbing me and dragging me into a tiny secluded room. The room was dim, but I could clearly see that he was furious.  
>"You're hurting me." I muttered. His grip around my wrist had left large purple bruises. Seneca muttered an apology, but he couldn't bring himself to face me.<p>

"You have endangered us all," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.  
>"What are you talking about?" I snapped, rubbing my throbbing wrists. This whole cloak-and-dagger charad<p>

"Hurry," Seneca sighed. "You've got about half an hour before he's gone."

* * *

><p>Cato was sitting in a wooden chair when I found him. The room was sparsely decorated. Who am I kidding? there were no decorations. It looked like a prison cell, but prison cells usually don't have a life-size portrait of President Snow glaring down on the inhabitants. Hello father...<p>

"Rose?" Cato asked. His voice was hoarse and he looked disoriented. The distant, dull roar of thousands of screaming spectators reverberated through the thick steel walls. Cato caught me as I came crashing into his chest.

Decked out in Capitol gear and a grim determined frown, Cato looked nothing like the guy who'd spent all of last night whispering promises into my ear.  
>"I came to wish you good luck." I wiped my burning tears away and forced a smile for his sake. "I believe in you."<p>

Cato smirked. For a while, we hugged each other in silence. There was something oddly comforting about being so close to him and not needing to say anything. It felt relaxed and calm. He was my rock in a raging sea of voices, screaming for blood. And I was his.

Suddenly, the timer on the wall beeped. "TRIBUTES, TO YOUR STATIONS. THE HUNGER GAMES ARE ABOUT TO BEGIN."

Cato pulled away from me and entered a giant plastic tube that led to the arena. Without breaking eye contact, he stared at me as the doors closed around him. My throat tightened.

"May the odds be ever in your favour!"


End file.
